


Some Kind of Saint

by lost_complex (bekkoko)



Series: Survivors [3]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, POV First Person, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekkoko/pseuds/lost_complex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo muses about his relationship with Heero and they have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Saint

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in the same universe as "One Morning" and "Alone" which take place after the series and in which Heero is suffering from PTSD and Duo is caring for him. The main point of writing this was to be able to write a nice smut scene, but I also got into writing out Duo's musings and a little bit of backstory.

It’s getting late and I’m driving us back toward the cow-studded hillsides and the shack we currently call home. Heero is sitting stiffly in the seat next to me. I can tell he’s trying not to say anything about the road while I drive. I appreciate the effort, but...

“Red light!” he says with a flinch that I almost didn’t notice. “...Watch your speed.”

“Yeah,” I reply, my eyes darting back to the road. “I know how to pilot this thing.”

He lets out a snort and turns his head to stare out the window. It looks like he might be smiling.

I sigh and turn up the radio, doing my best to ignore him.

For a while now I’ve been trying my damnedest to take care of Heero and help him get his own shit under control. They’ve put him on too many drugs for him to be able to drive himself around, so it’s basically my job to take him where he needs to go. I swear Heero knows this, but every time we have to go somewhere he insists he’s good to drive.

I know that he hates it-- needing to be cared for. It’s not the way he should be. As for myself, as hard as it is to see him in this state, I’m just looking forward to getting home so I can eat, drink, and get some goddamn sleep. I like to complain, but it‘s nice having a place to crash.

 

*******

I stick to the simple routine: We eat in the small, dimly-lit kitchen. We keep our conversation to the mundane task of preparing for sleep. Heero avoids looking at me. I wonder what kind of crazy shit is swirling around in his head.

Heero has finally gotten to the point where he can prepare and consume his own medications without me practically having to force him. So where before he would try to explain to me why the pills are wrong for him and maybe start to wander off while still gripping them in his fist, these days he just scowls at his palm before silently swallowing what the doctor prescribed. I watch as he carefully overturns the little pill case into his hand, does that scowl like I said he does, tosses the pills into his mouth, and takes a big drink of water from the mug I left on the table.

After a few minutes, a disoriented look settles over Heero’s face and I know the meds are kicking in; he’s getting drowsy. I retreat into my bedroom, hoping he won’t notice and follow me. I need some alone time.

I roll a spliff as silently as I can, then crack the window open and light up. Deep drag... pause... long exhale. I aim the dank cloud toward the crack in the window, then settle back into my chair. That’s right...this is what it feels like to fucking relax. I sigh and take another drag and close my eyes. Yeah... peace.

“That’s medicated, isn’t it,” Heero says from where he’s looming in my doorway like an awkward spectre and damn! I about drop the spliff in surprise and let out a laugh that accidentally sounds nervous. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though; it’s a joke to think that even in his current state-- especially in his current state-- Heero Yuy wouldn’t detect the smell of cannabis. But he seems calm, like his normal self.

“Yeah, it is,” I reply, turning in my chair toward Heero. I hold the pot-laced cigarette out to him and he takes it with a quick and steady hand, then immediately pulls a long drag that would make a lesser man choke. As he releases his breath, his eyelids drop slightly. Still holding what was my spliff, he seats himself on my mattress and hits it again like a pro, slow and easy, elbows resting on his knees, eyes closing as bliss enters him. That’s my Heero. He even smokes perfectly. How long has he been this beautiful? Aw fuck, he’s always this beautiful.

He notices my eyes on him and hands me back the spliff. I take it and slide from my chair to join him on the mattress, placing an ashtray between us. We smoke together in silence for a while and I watch him. His upper body exposed and the shape of his body backlit by smoky lamplight has me mesmerized.

Before I even think, I am reaching out to touch him. His shoulder is firm but his skin is soft. Softer than it used to be. Heero places his hand over mine and leans toward me and we kiss for a few seconds. His tongue darts across the corner of my mouth as we part.

We touch each other and finish the medicated cigarette; I can feel the tension rising and I know that he can too. Heero tamps out the smoke while I lick and nibble along his neck, his jaw, his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, and then back to his lips. His mouth is slack, his eyes are closed, his eyebrows gently knitted. This is what he looks like when I am giving him pleasure.

The feel and taste of Heero’s kiss are familiar now-- he’s the only one I’ve been intimate with for a while.

When we were younger, I simply admired Heero: his dedication, his ability to remain detached and focused, the way he can analyze even the most chaotic situation with his own calm collectedness.

Now I know that that part of him-- that way of being-- had been trained into him, pounded into him since childhood. He had known no other way to exist. At this point, how could anyone expect him to be any other way? What are soldiers supposed to do when their war is over?

So when he dons his weapons and patrols the borders of our safehouse, I don’t ask why and I don’t bother trying to stop him. Sometimes I stroll alongside him as he checks for inconsistencies, for anything suspicious. For a soldier with no mission, there are a lot of inconsistencies.

 

During our first encounter I’m not sure what Heero was thinking, or if it even really mattered that it was me he was coming on to.

I’d arrived to pick him up from the hospital where he had been locked in a ward and isolated due to his frightening the other patients. I could tell something had changed in him. He seemed broken, searching...hungry.

When we arrived at the safehouse the power had been shut off and it was cold as fuck, but I managed to to find some candles and canned goods. Heero remained distant.

I had planned on getting out of there in just a few days’ time; as soon as Heero was back on his feet, I would be on my way. I was certain he didn’t need or want me there hanging around, bitching about the cold and the tedium.

But that night, as we were lying together for warmth, he confided in me. He whispered things against my neck and left me speechless, made me into the exposed and vulnerable one.

When we kissed, it felt like I was offering him the one thing he needed that I could offer. I gave him my awkward passion, and he took me that night.

I had never been with a man before, not to mention fucked by one. But Heero’s not just some man; he is a comrade, a friend. The very person who came to my rescue years ago, and I believe he would do it again if the time were to come. 

So I gave him the best I could that night, even when I was shocked by how painful his sex was as he pushed into me, grunting and moaning. I don’t think he had ever been with another man either, because since then we have found that sex together doesn’t always have to hurt.

It hurts less, for example, if I get on top of Heero first and sit on his dick, easing it in slowly before we start going at it hard.

But sometimes he wants to fuck me immediately and I’m not even hard yet, and that’s just the worst-- Heero has a big damn dick. I usually do the nice thing and let him fuck me so that he’ll shut up and roll over and go to sleep. Also I’m starting to think I must be some kind of masochist. Seriously, why else would I even be here?

Now sitting side by side on my jizz-stinking mattress with the smell of sweet smoky herb hanging in the air, I can tell Heero is ready to fuck. I’m gonna give it to him. I can see he’s already getting a hard-on just from making out with me. I smirk, grabbing the stiff handful between his legs.

“You must really like m--” 

“Shut up,” he says, pressing his mouth to mine and shoving his tongue inside to make sure I do as he says.

I make a half-assed effort to pull away because he surprised me, mumbling the against his mouth as he pulls back just as quickly as he had swooped in. I stare at him.

“Suck my dick.” he says, with what I think is supposed to be a playful look. He knows I’ll do it even though I slap him in the face first and call him an asshole. I think that just turns him on more. 

I guess it’s turning me on too because as he gets up and settles into my chair and I’m kneeling between his legs I can feel myself getting hard.

I pull out his erection and put the head in my mouth and it tastes terrible. I suck on it, but the weed we just smoked is making my mouth all dry. I chug some water while Heero sits there, watching me like a fucking I-don’t-know-what!

“I feel so gay,” I mutter, taking his dick and putting it back in my mouth.

Heero laughs outright. “Well,” he says, “I gotta tell you... you look pretty gay right now.”

I give him a little teeth action and finally get a moan out of him.

“Maxwell...”

I start sucking hard and he grabs my hair, using it to pull my head up and down, his dick going all the way to the back of my throat making me gag, but he holds me there and I claw at his thighs until he lets go. I pull back coughing and spitting. My dick is hard and aching. I know I must be some kind of masochist to want him this bad.

“Heero, goddammit!” I stand up and grab him by his wrists, pulling him up out of the chair and then push him so he falls on my mattress.

He just scoots on his back, making himself comfortable, watching me with those predatory eyes. I gather my composure, drink more water, and then, eyeing him right back, I take my clothes off and let my hair down. I fetch the bottle of lube from our bathroom (can’t believe we didn’t have this stuff the first time) and make my way back to bed, flopping down next to Heero.

“Get undressed,” I tell him, and he does. His body has changed some with age. He is bigger, his skin softer and more pale, his eyes ...sad.

I can’t help it, wanting to help him, wanting to care for him. What am I supposed to do?

My expression must have changed, because now Heero is looking at me with concern.

“Maxwell,” he says, “are you--”

“Shh!” I hiss, and crawl on top of him, kissing him hard and allowing our naked skin to touch, our chests, our legs. Our hands are roaming all over each other and then he wraps his arms around me, palms pressing into my back, fingers kneading. I push him down so he’s lying on his back again and I’m straddling his stomach. I can feel his erection along my ass crack. Heero reaches for the lube and pours some onto his hand and over his fingers. He makes an ‘o’ with his thumb and forefinger and then reaches for my dick, sliding his fingers down tight over the tip to the base and back again. I can’t help but moan and buck into his hand a few more times before he tells me to turn around.

I feel myself flush as I reposition myself, straddling him the opposite direction, my ass practically in his face; I play with his big, hard dick while he lubes my ass. I’m thinking I should have kept my hair up, but honestly I like how it feels spread out under me, or falling down my back, or over my shoulders when I’m on my hands and knees-- which is apparently the position we’re about to take because Heero is sitting up and tossing me forward so I almost land on my face. He’s already spreading my ass apart with his left and and aiming his dick to push it inside me.

“Oy! Heero! ... ... Ow!!” It feels fucking huge and I wonder if Heero has always been this horny or if it has anything to do with me.

Just as suddenly as he started, Heero slows way down, becoming all methodical, stretching me with his free hand while inching his dick in deeper and deeper. I groan and let my upper body fall forward, my fingers digging into the mattress, trying to take deep breaths while Heero slides in the rest of the way.

“Fuck...Heero..!” I can feel my body shaking while he waits for me to adjust, still massaging my ass. He’s waiting for me to start rocking back against him, to show him I’m ready. I try it. It still hurts bad. Damn it...

“Just fuck me...” I order through gritted teeth.

“Maxwell,” he scolds and I can hear the smart-ass grin in his voice “So impatient.” 

He pulls back, almost all the way and then pushes in again, still going so slowly that I can barely stand it. I focus on my breathing as he pulls out and in again, and again, faster, and finally we start to pick up a rhythm. 

“Yeah...!” I pant, embarrassed to hear the lust in my own voice.

Heero takes a firm grip onto my hips and pulls me back against him in short fast strokes; bouncing me back and forward again as my ass hits against his abdomen, making a delicious, dirty smacking sound.

“Yess...” comes Heeros low moan. Oh God, his fucking voice.

“Heero--” I moan his name and the “o” trails off, undulating with each bouncing thrust. “oh-- oh-- ohh--!” I reach for my own dick, rolling my upper body part way onto one side so my shoulder is resting on the mattress. Twisting, I try to look back at Heero through my hair. As I struggle to turn he grips me under my thigh, lifting my weight off one leg, resulting in an angle that causes me to yell when his dick starts hitting a spot deeper inside, and-- “Oh God!!” --it’s starting to feel -- “...so good--!” I start jerking myself off, my fingers sliding up and down easily over my lube-slicked dick. I can hear my own voice, low, moaning shamelessly, God, oh God, I’m pumping my dick hard. I wanna cum bad.

I try fantasizing a little but it’s hard to think about tits when you’re getting pounded in the ass. So I try to imagine Heero with tits and find it hotter than it ought to be. Some kind of badass soldier chick fucking me in the ass... Now that’s hot...!

“Fuck..!” I’m cumming, my ass clenching around Heero’s dick. I can hear him grunt.

“Duo...” He drops my leg and pulls out suddenly and I know he’s about to jerk himself off all over my ass. I let myself flop forward and lie there on my stomach, legs spread, catching my breath, and a few moments later I feel Heero’s jizz landing on my ass and sliding between my ass cheeks. 

I feel his weight shift and he comes into view as he lies down on his side, resting his face close to mine. He gently lifts strands of hair from my face an places them behind me. I readjust onto my side so our bodies are aligned, our noses barely touching, our breath still coming out fast against each others open mouths. He kisses me on the lips, and then again with tongue, gently, with such tenderness I’m momentarily paralyzed.

“Duo Maxwell, you are a saint,” Heero murmurs. And then he dozes off.

Sure, right. What kind of saint falls asleep next to the fucker who just came all over his ass? Fuck it, I’ll have to answer that one in the morning.


End file.
